Thai Cabbage Salad and why I love bowls...

I love bowls.  Particularly hand thrown pottery. It has a soft, sturdy, personal feel.  

Bowls are the obvious and reliable vessel for soup, porridge, stew, curry.  But they can also feel smart and out of the ordinary for a large square of lasagna, or a piece of chocolate cake- with or without ice cream.   

To me, eating a salad on a plate feels frustrating and unwieldy.  There's bound to be some cabbage or a stray scallion on the floor if you attempt it.  But put that same heap of salad in a good sized bowl and the leaves will never topple overboard.  The sides of the bowl help you maneuver every last bit. The food feels cherished when eaten from a bowl.  As well  it should.

Thai Cabbage Salad

from Marlena Spieler's Hot and Spicy Cookbook 1985

I recommend serving immediately once the salad is dressed to avoid a soggy salad.  If you want to prepare the vegetables in advance simply wait to add the dressing.  Spicy, crunchy, fresh and summery. 

Serves 4 to 6

1/3 cup vegetable oil (I used peanut)

1/3 cup distilled white vinegar

3 tablespoons sugar

3 tablespoons soy sauce

1 cup chopped cilantro

1 to 2 tablespoons red salsa or 1 teaspoon chile-garlic paste

4 cloves garlic, chopped

2 serrano chiles, thinly sliced

1 head green cabbage, shredded or very thinly sliced

1/2 cucumber, peeled and diced

1/2 carrot, shredded

1 cup dry-roasted peanuts, coarsely chopped

5 green onions, chopped

1/2 red bell pepper for garnish

1. Combine oil, vinegar, sugar, soy sauce, cilantro salsa, garlic and chiles.

2. Pour the mixture over the cabbage, cucumber, and carrot. 

3. Toss with chopped peanuts, green onions and garnish with red bell peppers.  

Cold Sesame (Garlicky) Noodles

For almost a year, since the birth of my second son, I've been cooking for the lowest common denominator, meaning my three year old.  My husband and I reach for the hot sauce to make things more suitable to our palate. I'm not talking chicken nuggets and fries here...I pack as many vegetables into the food processor as I can, sauté, add coconut milk or tomatoes, simmer with some fish- you get the idea.  Roman will generally accept this type of preparation over rice or pasta, and I feel like it's a healthy enough way to ensure he's getting nutrients without forcing foods on him.  But lately I would like to regain a bit of my adult identity and I've started to think about the foods that can help me do that.

It's funny to think about being able to eat whatever I want, do whatever I want, wear what I please again. Everything has become tailored to my marathon days of schlepping two kids around the city. From park to park, then home again, we eat a lot of pb&j's, pizza, hummus and cucumber, muffins, things that are easy to tote around. So when I thought about making these cold sesame noodles, Roman (almost 4) was not who I had in mind to be the consumer. However, when there is pasta involved, he perked right up with interest and before I knew it he was reaching for his own bowl-- teaching me that the more chances I give him to like something out of his comfort zone, the more he might surprise me. Because parenting is, after all, full of surprises.

There are those dishes that tempt a brave palate.  If you value the taste experience and don't mind the way raw garlic tends to linger, this is a dish you are likely to enjoy.  
Fresh garlic stirred into silky sesame noodles, chilled for a delightful summer meal.  
Eat it with people you love and you won't have to be concerned about the aftermath of the raw garlic.  

Cold Noodles with Sesame Sauce
A recipe my mom used to make, with the addition of red bell pepper because it's still hard for me to think about eating something without a vegetable.
1 lb. linguine or spaghetti
1 teaspoon plus 1 tablespoon sesame oil
1/4 cup sesame paste
3 tablespoons brewed tea or water
2 tablespoon chili oil (optional but recommended!)
3 tablespoons light soy sauce
3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
2 teaspoons sugar
Salt to taste
1/4 cup peanut oil
2 tablespoons chopped garlic
1 red bell pepper, diced (optional)
Sliced scallions and cilantro for garnish
1 tablespoon sesame seeds for garnish

 Boil six cups of water and cook the noodles until tender. Drain and run cold water over them to chill them. Sprinkle with the teaspoon of sesame oil. To make the sauce, place the sesame paste in a bowl and add the tea or water, stirring with chopsticks or a fork. Stir in the remaining ingredients and the 1 tablespoon sesame oil. Toss the noodles in the sauce and red bell pepper, if using. Serve cold, garnished with fresh scallions, cilantro and sesame seeds.

Spicy Mango Black Bean Salad with Roasted Corn

In a few weeks, we will be in Massachusetts.  Applying sunscreen, bug repellent, rinsing out bathing suits, licking ice pops, splashing in a baby pool.  Waiting for the corn to grow as high as an elephant's eye, see our laundry blow in the breeze, feel the cool grass sneak up between my toes, slightly prickly but also sort of soft.  Natural grass, not the very manicured kind, a nice shade of green.

Dad is positioned by the grill, watching it all. We are definitely singing.  Maybe he throws on some kabobs with marinated shrimp, certainly a sausage or two.  "Janma" offers me a glass of chilled white wine.  She takes Ethan and bounces him on her lap, making him laugh with paddy cake.  Lisa and the cousins come over and beach balls fly in the yard.  The kids start a game of badminton.  Yes, we should do that this year.  Dirty feet climb up onto the deck for dinner.

Perhaps we'll get to stay up late enough to see the fireflies come out.  I wonder what time they appear.

Spicy Mango Black Bean Salad with Roasted Corn

Lime juice, cumin, cilantro and heat from jalapeño peppers make this salad highly satisfying for sophisticated (grown up) palates.  Enjoy with any grilled fish, chicken, or pork on a gorgeous summer night.

1/2 red onion (about 1/2 cup)

Juice of 1-2 limes

1 red pepper

2 jalapeño peppers (start with one, or go for two if you like a lot of heat)

2 ripe mangoes

1 can of black beans, rinsed

2 ears of fresh corn

1 handful of cilantro

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt

2 Tablespoons of good olive oil

Dice the red onion and let it soak in the lime juice for several minutes.  Add the diced red peppers, jalapeño peppers (remove the seeds, or leave them in for full heat.) Cube the mangoes, add the rinsed beans.  Shuck and roast the corn either on a grill or grill pan for several minutes.  (If you can't do this, just microwave it for two minutes and run it under cold water to cool it.)  Cut the corn off the cobs and add to the salad.  Chop the cilantro, then stir it in with the cumin and salt.  Drizzle in the olive oil and stir to combine all the ingredients.  Serve immediately or chill slightly.  

Potato Soup and two tales

When I was five, we lived in a rural part of Massachusetts surrounded by farms.  One afternoon, my sister and I were playing outside when a small, pink pig came toddling down our long dirt road.  My mother had a huge soft spot for pigs (probably inspired by Charlotte's Web) and brought out a bowl of potato soup for the happy little guy.  After an hour or so, a frantic farmer came knocking and we woefully said goodbye to the sweet pig.    

When my mother published her cookbook, my grandmother Ruth's potato chowder recipe had a place of honor.  In her notes, she made no mention of feeding soup to a pig.  Instead, she recounted that the recipe came from Ruth who had actually hated soup as a child.  Ruth's father Abraham wished upon her a husband who loved it.  My grandfather Leo.  Ruth embraced her new married life and learned to love soup- lentil, pea, barley, lima bean and her favorite, potato chowder.

My great-grandfather Abraham probably saw it as Ruth's duty to make soup for her husband no matter how she felt about the stuff.  The important thing is, she grew to love it and her family appreciated her as a fantastic cook.  In 1967, my mother won over my father with a chicken curry dish from The New York Times Cookbook.  A few months after I met P, I was rolling out dough for calzones and making stir fries.  You know the old adage, "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

My point is that sometimes cooking does feel like a duty- someone normally has to put food on the table to feed the family.  At times we feel lackluster about the task.  In the drudgery of routine, even the most creative cook can lack inspiration.  When that happens, just remember it's easy to please with simple, fresh ingredients.  Especially when it's a comfort food like potato soup.  Always good to have on hand to feed family, friends, or unexpected fuzzy visitors.  

Potato Chowder 

This is the recipe that my mother included in her cookbook.  It can of course be adapted many ways.  I did try Ruth's recipe in the photo above but I found it to have too much butter and I prefer my mom's version.  I added the kernels from one fresh corn cob to this recipe, and substituted leek for the onion. You could also add some crispy bacon or pancetta. A sprinkling of paprika on top is authentic to New England kitchens in the 50's and 60's.

1 1/2 cups chopped onion (about 2 onions)

1/2 cup diced celery

1 cup sliced carrots

1 clove crushed garlic

3 tablespoons butter

4 cups diced potatoes (about 3 medium)

2 cups water

2 chicken bouillon cubes

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

1/4 teaspoon tarragon (I left this out)

1/4 cup chopped parsley (optional)

2 cups milk

1/2 cup grated cheddar cheese

Saute onion, celery, carrots and garlic in butter until onion is transparent.  Add the other ingredients except for milk and cheddar cheese.  Cook until potatoes are tender (about 10-12 minutes).  Add milk and heat without boiling.  Serve sprinkled with cheddar cheese.